People-Pleasing and the Affects of Caring
by Allegory for Hatred
Summary: Dazai may have let himself be tortured to get information. It's not that big of a deal. You guys are just overreacting.


friendly reminder that the formatting is ALWAYS better on ao3 oof

anyway:

CW: torture, bodily harm, vague references to mori being a terrible guardian

enjoy or dont!

* * *

"Ah, Knunikida?"

"What?"

He feels Dazai shift from the other end of the room where he's tied to a chair. "Mr. Kidnapper is running a little late." His partner observes idly, shuffling around just enough that his seat creaks every second.

"Tch!" Kunikida huffs. Unlike Dazai, he's tied up on the floor to an exposed pipe. "Is this really the time for joking?"

"Huh? Kunikida would rather have me joking when the kidnapper comes back?"

"Don't be an idiot." Scowling towards Dazai's chair, he tries to break free for a fifth time. No dice. "The others know where we went. It's only a matter of time until they track us down. Just try not to annoy our kidnapper enough that he kills you before they find us."

Eyes wide and honest, Dazai makes a small, excited noise. "Do you really think that would work?!"

"You'd better not try." Kunikida frowns. He wouldn't…actually try to be killed today, right? "Just… sit quietly, okay?"

Dazai looks like he's about to say something—of course—but stops for the sound of footsteps approaching. Kunikida feels his spine sharpen and can see his partner tense up minutely, too. The man who approaches is one Kunikida is distantly familiar with. It's a face he recognizes from somewhere within the files Dazai had been flipping through the other day, but it isn't one he can put a name to.

"Oh," Dazai hums, immediately disregarding his partner's one request. "It's this guy."

Even though it's said with casual surprise, Kunikida knows the brunette well enough by now. With a sigh, he silently admits that Dazai probably knew who kidnapped them before they went to investigate. He wonders, idly, if Dazai knew they'd be tied up here at the start of the job, too. Probably.

Their kidnapper pulls a face, looking distinctly nervous.

Frowning, Kunikida thinks, 'who is he, then?'

"Mr. Fujiwara. A co-worker of the client's," Dazai announces as if aware of his partner's thoughts. "Of course you were the stalker. I'd have to be a terrible detective to miss that."

"Huh?!" Growls Kunikida.

Fujiwara stomps forward, stopping a beat away from where Dazai is tied up. "Shut up! You won't be so cocky when I'm finished with you!"

Kunikida's breath stills. Staring straight into Dazai's eyes, he loudly thinks, "don't say anything, don't say anything, don't say—'

"Torture, right?" His partner lets out a keening whine. "Booooring!"

A smack clears the air and Kunikida feels himself flinch back unconsciously. When he looks up again, there's a red, hand-shaped mark on Dazai's face. A thin, dark line of blood scratches just under the man's eye from where Fujiwara's ring cut his face.

"Shut up!" Their abductor shrills. There's a manic tell to his movements that gives Fujiwara an air of dangerous unpredictability. "Just—Just tell me where Sayaka is! I know she's hiding out with your agency!"

"Mr. Fujiwara is even more stupid than I thought if he thinks anything less than killing me will reveal his Sayaka's location."

Gritting his teeth, the man snaps forward to kick out at Dazai's knee. A sharp, cracking sound answers the attack, and Kunikida thinks that his partner's kneecap must have broken with how painful that sounded. But Dazai doesn't even flinch. Even where Kunikida's sucked in a sympathetic gasp at the sound, the most noise his partner makes is a passive hum.

"You're right," Dazai says then, as if the crooked angle to his knee is an inconvenience at most. "Killing me wouldn't help you at all. But I would be very grateful to the person who took my life that some good karma might reward you."

With a lunge, Fujiwara strikes out once more. His arm makes a wide arc and a punch lands squarely in Dazai's right eye. His ring catches the skin there in a way that Kunikida thinks must be excruciating. Another forward motion and his partner's foot snaps below Fujiwara's boot. The shape look relatively intact, but Kunikida knows enough to say something in Dazai's foot has just broken. He can't let this go on any longer.

"Stop!" Kunikida shouts, accidentally pleading. "He won't tell you anything, Fujiwara. Hurting us won't help you."

'Tell him to stop!' He thinks to Dazai. 'Flinch away—something! Don't just go along with this like it's okay!'

"Shut the hell up!"

But Dazai doesn't steer away from the next punch, nor cry out at the next snap of bone. Instead, he says something that sounds like a half-hearted, "Are you even trying to get information out of me?" even though it's said through a gurgle of blood and bone.

Fujiwara pulls back after a bone in Dazai's finger makes a horrendous cracking noise. He's all heavy breaths and rage—but while Kunikida is thinking the man is dangerous, his partner is thinking Fujiwara makes a poor torturer. The kidnapper takes in a deep, shaking breath and backs away momentarily, seeming too emotional to focus on much more than lashing out.

In the lull, Kunikida inspects Dazai over for damage. He's… Kunikida wishes he could break free of these bonds and fight back, or maybe just take his partner's place. Dazai's face is mottled from freshening bruises and blood. His right eye is half-lidded and looks to be struggling to stay open. Even if they can break free, somehow, Kunikida isn't sure Dazai can run with that knee—and the sound of his foot cracking is a vivid memory, too.

Dammit. When will the rest of the Agency get here?!

When he pulls his eyes away from Dazai's casual form (for all the damage, he's smiling and passive still), Fujiwara has backed away enough to be out of hearing range. Kunikida takes a breath. "Dazai!"

"Huh? Kunikida, what's wrong?"

"What's—?! You're hurt!" He struggles to find the right words for this sort of moment. "Let Fujiwara deal with me when he comes back, idiot. It won't be long now until the others arrive."

Through a sheet of blood, Dazai blinks owlishly at him. "Kunikida wants to be tortured, too? You won't be able to read him any better if you're the one over here."

Kunikida's eyes thin, brows pulling together in an attempt to decipher the message. To his partner, the blonde's expression must be easy to read.

"This guy's too simple-minded to get any more information from," Dazai supplies loosely. A stream of blood trails from his forehead somewhere. "Even when torturing he doesn't do much more than yell about useless things. How boring."

"Information..?" Something in Kunikida turns to cold, dead ice.

"Sure. Isn't that what you wanted? To learn more about the client's stalker?"

Eyes wide and face slack, he re-scans his partner's beat and broken form. "…Right. But now we're focused on getting out of here safely."

Dazai coughs slightly, looking unsure. "I don't think this pseudo-torture is going to get us any more info than what I've gathered already. We can probably leave now, unless you wanted to wait around."

The cold feeling in Kunikida's center stops his breathing dead in its tracks. Dazai wouldn't let himself… "We can't leave," he tries with a tight throat, "because we're tied up."

"Only to gather information." Dazai blinks, reading the situation. After a pause, he grins down at his partner, cheeky. "Don't worry, though. If he tries to hurt you I'll unite myself and rescue you."

For all the tension in the air and dread running through his veins, Kunikida can't find the words to rationalize what his partner is saying. Did Dazai… let himself be tortured brutally to feel out the suspect? A painful shiver runs down the detective's spine at the notion.

'It couldn't be,' he thinks. But at Dazai's confused, damaged face, Kunikida knows this is the truth.

Now isn't the time, however, to dwell on the horrific implications this revelation has. "Untie us." He says instead, voice hardy.

"Okay!"

Dazai does something with his hands Kunikida can barely make out. There's a popping sound, followed by a pull, and then his left hand is free. Dazai makes quick work of untying himself from there.

Unfortunately, it seems their drawn-on conversation took long enough that Fujiwara has turned back to catch them mid-escape. Kunikida feels his heart falter over a few beats. He's still tied up and Dazai isn't a very good fighter—'Dammit!' he thinks to the Agency, 'Hurry up!'

Fujiwara charges towards Dazai, growling and yelling about something incoherent, but Dazai just blinks up at him. When the man is right on top of him, Dazai kicks out at his knee. With a terrible snap, Fujiwara's leg bends backwards and he falls to the floor screaming.

"Sorry," Dazai says lowly in a way that makes Kunikida think he's not supposed to hear it, "You're not very interesting, after all."

"Hurry up." Kunikida tries to sit up.

He quickly starts untying Kunikida with mostly steady hands, moving from Fujiwara's crying form with practiced grace. Once he's free to move, Kunikida stands and strides forward to inspect his partner's damage. He cups his partner's face where a nasty wound keeps Dazai's eye shut. Below his hand, Dazai's frame tenses.

There are too many injuries to catalogue right now. Too many sick implications of Dazai's actions to address in the heat of this abandoned room. Instead, he just says, "You're an idiot." And resolves to talk with his partner about all this once they're rested.

"Kunikida's mean." His voice sounds tight and awkward below the weight of the blonde's touch. Kunikida takes back his hand to see the other visibly relax.

Suddenly, there's a bang of metal from a broken door. Atsushi charges in first, fists clawed and primed. When his eyes pass over their kidnapper to Dazai and Kunikida, Atsushi's sure steps falter. Behind him, Yosano similarly halts.

On the floor, Fujiwara moans and clutches at his broken knee.

"Atsushi!" Dazai beams, "You came to get us!"

"R-right! "

Kunikida, desperate to get a hold on the situation, frowns and motions for Atsushi to follow. "Let's detain him." He gives a pointed glance Yosano while the young tiger bounds forward.

The doctor rolls her eyes across the scene before following Kunikida's gaze and settling on Dazai. The man is covered in blood and bruises and there's an odd tilt to how he's standing that makes Yosano think something is wrong with his leg. She strides forward and pushes Dazai back down into his chair.

"This looks bad," she says idly, tracing a finger over where Dazai's right eye won't open fully. Then, to the room, she announces, "I don't think you're in danger of dying—" Dazai sighs mournfully, "—but I need to check you out back at the Agency where my supplies are… Can you stand?"

Dazai pouts. "Huh? Of course!"

She glances at his leg, noting the crooked junction of his knee and the delicate way his foot rests on the floor. Yosano frowns, thinning her lips. She wants to say, 'You're welcome to walk back, then,' but her ability doesn't work on Dazai and she can't risk permanently crippling him. Instead she barks, "Atsushi!"

The tiger jumps next to Kunikida.

"I need you to help this idiot walk to the car." She smiles gently when Atsushi immediately starts towards them. "If he tells you he can walk, he's lying."

Atsushi nods, looking very serious, and comes up to where Dazai is sitting. "Are you alright, Dazai?"

"Just fine! Yosano's just being mean."

"Right." With the amount of blood on his mentor, Atsushi isn't sure that's the case. Regardless, he offers an arm to Dazai and heaves him to his feet. The man's stumble is exaggerated and playful, but the reality of the situation makes Atsushi more tender regardless. "I was worried we wouldn't get here in time."

Dazai doesn't look his way as they limp out of the building, arm wrapped around his charge's neck. "You shouldn't worry about me, Atsushi. I wouldn't let things go so far that you would only find our bodies."

"You shouldn't have gotten hurt at all!"

With Fujiwara restrained, Kunikida steps up beside Yosano where she's watching Atsushi and Dazai leave. The doctor doesn't turn from where they hobble slowly away. "I'm almost surprised Dazai wasn't crying out like that fellow is, with how bad that knee looks."

"Hm."

"I need to get a closer look at the damage, but it looks pretty extensive. If it were anyone but Dazai I'd say his cheerfulness is a good sign, but you can never be sure with this one." She pauses, "You two let this go on for too long… what happened?"

"I'm not sure."

Yosano quirked a brow, almost smiling. "Kunikida not sure of something? How strange."

"It's something Dazai said earlier—like he was letting himself be tortured to get information for the agency." At his side, Yosano's eyes narrow on the retreating forms.

"I'll have a talk with him when we get back. He…"

"Right." Kunikida nods, thinking, 'no one should believe their own well-being is less important than the job.'

He needs to talk with the president.

.

"Take him to the infirmary," Yosano directs pointedly, moving ahead quicker than the limping duo can manage to organize her supplies.

Around them, the Agency members exude surprise and concern at the sight of Dazai's bloodied figure. Despite them, the injured man grins at the room, looking passive. Candy in his mouth, Ranpo watches this exchange with thinned, contemplative eyes. He nods as if something had been made clear.

Kunikida makes a beeline for Fukuzawa's office with a set, stone expression.

For all Yosano wants to know what the president has to say about this grim revelation, she needs to see to Dazai first. Once Dazai is lowered onto the bed, Yosano relieves Atsushi of his job and shuts the door behind him. When she turns to face Dazai, his eyes are a blank, empty cover over the grin fashioned below.

The deadened look gives Yosano pause. Dazai has always been one for putting on masks and hiding whatever he's actually feeling behind jokes, but the hollowness to his expression is more prevalent now than she's ever seen it before. Rather than shatter the thin guise outright, she turns back to pulling together supplies.

"Is anything still bleeding, Dazai?"

There's a moment's pause behind her that Yosano thinks must be consideration. "I'll be fine," he says by way of answer, "You don't need to look me over or anything."

She halts over a roll of bandages, trying to find the best response to whatever unnecessary thoughts are going through the nullifier's head. "You were hurt fairly badly. If not for yourself, then get checked out for the ADA." Dazai gives her a blank stare. "We can't have an agent on the field with so many untreated injuries."

Something shifts behind Dazai's eyes when she turns to look. Yosano thinks it might be comprehension but isn't confident with how he's still leaned away from her slightly. His smile looks forced—she's noticed he's often uncomfortable in her office; more-so as a patient than a visitor. "That won't be a problem." He eyes the scalpel on her tray.

"You can't walk."

"I just need crutches."

Yosano almost barks out a laugh, but stops at the empty, nervous look Dazai is wearing like a raincoat. "Knee injuries are more complicated than that. If you just keep walking around on it you'll do some serious damage."

"I won't be walking on it." He beams, "I'll be walking with crutches."

She lets out a terrible sigh and pushes Dazai further into the bed so that he's fully laying down. "You know the rules, Dazai. An order from me is equal to an order from the president when it comes to health."

"It's a stupid rule." He pouts.

"It's for your own safety." When Dazai doesn't say anything to that, she can easily guess what he was thinking. "How would you feel if Atsushi didn't let me heal him?"

"Atsushi's a strong tiger. He wouldn't need you."

"Kunikida, then." How irritating.

Dazai pretends to think about it. "I would be surprised he ignored his ideal to stay healthy."

Of course Dazai would be difficult. She almost throws the bandages at him, but restrains herself for how pale his complexion has turned. She needs to stop trying to rationalize that they care about his health to him and just force him to get well. Yosano sighs. "If you won't tell me what's still bleeding, I'll just check them all now. Show me your knee."

Staring at her, Dazai silently obeys, and Yosano briefly hates how tense he goes at the demand. He pulls the leg of his pants up so she can better see how crooked the junction looks. It must have really hurt—should still be hurting now. But the man on her table isn't crying out or whimpering with every move like he reasonably should be. Yosano has often wondered about Dazai's tolerance to pain with how frequently he describes a painless suicide to them, but with how quiet he is now, she's at a loss. "Does this hurt?"

"A bit," he replies, even though Dazai must know she can tell that's a lie. A break like that should be excruciating.

She doesn't push, though. Right now, Yosano wants to make sure nothing is still bleeding. Later, she can delve into the complicated psyche that is Dazai, but in the meantime she needs to make sure no lasting damage is being allowed to happen. "Knee breaks are serious," she says instead, "I'll work on that after I've made sure nothing is bleeding."

Dazai doesn't say anything. It's a silence that makes Yosano feel a little sick, for some reason. She remembers, then, what Kunikida had said about the torture at the scene. "How about your eye? Can you not open it?"

He almost looks embarrassed about that—it's an expression Yosano has only seen on Dazai when he's putting on those masks of emotion before. "I'll just wrap that up. It's nothing serious."

"If you can't open your eye it could be. Can you even see out of it like that?"

"Huh?" Something seems to shake Dazai awake from his almost trance-like stare, and his expression becomes one of bemused discontent. "Of course not."

"What do you mean 'Of course not'?" Yosano sharps, grabbing the bandages and a cloth to clean the wound. When she moves in to wash the blood off, Dazai stiffens below her.

Despite his blatant discomfort, however, Dazai doesn't reach out to stop her. He pulls a face. "What do I mean? I haven't been able to see from that eye for years, obviously."

She halts abruptly. "You— what?"

"Huh? Did Yosano not know that?"

Yosano most certainly did not know that. It's part of her job to do semi-annual check-ups with the detectives here, and she's suddenly regretted letting Dazai skip all of his (she has a weak conviction for the nervous way he regards her office). "Why is that not on your file?" She asks instead, trying to keep Dazai talking while he's still forthcoming.

"Is it important?" Dazai stares lamely at the far wall. "I can still do my job fine."

The ex-mafioso is painting a very clear, very horrible picture that Yosano is diligently reluctant to accept. Dazai has been with the ADA for a good long while now—to think that they've all overlooked how clearly he's misunderstanding his own value is staggering and just a little sickening. She's suddenly grateful Kunikida went straight to see the president. "I care more about making sure you're comfortable than making sure you can do your job."

Dazai makes a face likes she's not making sense.

Yosano wraps his head with bandages, draping it over the damaged eye. It's a bit late now, but she needs to make sure— "You can get around the office just fine? Nothing's too hard for you to see?"

"Sure."

Sighing, the doctor tries to push this newer, equally terrible revelation from her thoughts. She'll have time to contemplate everything else Dazai's been neglecting to mention later, but for now, Yosano's medical training prompts her to compartmentalize and move on.

"What else hurts?"

.

Never let it be said that Fukuzawa didn't care for his employees. In fact, he goes out of his way to make sure each of them is comfortable in light of their various traumas. He takes great pride in how every member of the agency feels safe enough to confide in him. Of course, there's always an exception to the rule.

"...that's what Dazai told you?"

Kunikida nods wearily, and Fukuzawa sighs.

Dazai. The agency's resident problem child. Not only does he repeatedly chance death, but he rarely—if ever—opened up. The Director knew there was a wealth of trauma just below the bandages Dazai wore, but he didn't dare poke. Even if doing as such might help the man heal.

But there's a difference between letting someone open up at their own pace and letting them destroy themself in the process.

From the other side of the desk, Kunikida's eyes are filled with such concern for his partner that Fukuzawa feels some semblance of relief that his inaction hasn't ruined everything. He clears his throat and motions for the detective to follow. "Yosano should be finished looking Dazai over."

Fukuzawa strolls though the office with relative determination, trailed by a straight-faced Kunikida. If the others are interested in what's going on, they haven't much to say. He gives two raps on the infirmary door, then waits.

The door opens beneath his knuckles. Yosano stands in the brink, looking passive as ever before stepping aside to let them in. "Close the door behind you."

Kunikida does, with a slight click of the latch to fill the lull. Both newcomers follow Yosano to where she's wandered closer to Dazai.

On the bed, Dazai looks small and frail. The cot seems to swallow him up with almost as much fervor as the numerous bandages do. It's really more bandages than Fukuzawa thinks he's ever seen on the boy. There's a wrap of tight cloth around his eye, a brace on some fingers, a cast on his foot... he could go on if the image wasn't making him feel sick.

"Kunikida," Dazai greets, looking flat beneath all the cloth cover, "Director."

"How are you feeling, Dazai?" Fukuzawa starts.

"Fine! Yosano won't let me leave, though."

The doctor quirks a brow before glancing at the president. "He needs to stay off his feet for a while. After that he'll be walking with crutches. Also..." She shoots a look Fukuzawa can't decipher at her patient, "his right eye is blind."

Fukuzawa feels his heart stop. To let an employee—a family member—be hurt so permanently on his watch is...

At his side, Kunikida seems to have reached the same conclusion. "I'm so sorry. It's—I should have tried to help you earlier and—"

"Apparently," Yosano interrupts, expression pointed and of a very specific breed, "this injury is old."

"Huh?"

"I don't see the big deal," Dazai says behind a row of bandage, voice low but frail.

"The big deal is that it's important we know about your health and limitations." She replies with a frown.

While they bicker, Fukuzawa tries to rationalize what he's just been told. He supposes, of all things, being half-blind is a relatively minor revelation compared to getting himself tortured for no good reason. But it's just another piece on this already delicate castle of cards that makes up Dazai's character, threatening to topple over any moment.

"That's enough."

Yosano and Dazai clamp up immediately, though Dazai looks notably less at ease.

"From now on, you need to be honest about your health, Dazai." Fukuzawa says. Demands, really. Dazai is just... difficult to deal with. He wants to let the man get comfortable enough to confide in him, but it seems like waiting is doing more damage than not.

Dazai gives him an uncomprehending look.

"And your health," he starts, "is more important than the job."

Through that one visible eye, Fukuzawa can't see any light at all. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the man were dead. It's a look Fukuzawa has come to associate with the unfortunate children of Mori. The observation pulls a sigh from his throat.

"These things," Dazai says with little affect, "don't matter so much. I can see just fine."

Kunikida gives his partner a look. "This isn't just about... what you can see, Dazai. It's..."

"It's about what you believe." Yosano gives it a try now, putting away the last of her bandages. "You can't possibly believe that letting yourself be tortured is a good method of information extraction."

Dazai pouts, but it's a look that says he knows more than his audience. "Ah... it's always worked before."

"It shouldn't have to." Fukuzawa tries to meet Dazai's eye.

The boy just blinks, looking more and more like a lost child as the conversation progresses. Now more than ever does Fukuzawa wish he'd saved this child from Mori before he was broken so horribly. Dazai's smile is small. "Alright." Agreeable as ever under pressure. "I won't do that again, then. Probably."

Despite the casual compliance, Fukuzawa can't help but think Dazai is just saying what he thinks they want to hear. And it's a problem he's been ignoring for long enough—waiting for Dazai to open up so he can offer open arms and all the therapy this poor boy needs. But the longer he watches the nullifier interact around the office, the more he realizes Dazai is really just a people-pleaser. Even if it doesn't seem like it, that is. They're never going to make any progress because Dazai won't ever stop catering to others.

It's something, Fukuzawa imagines, he does in order to survive a world where everyone is a potential threat. But the director doesn't want his workers to just survive, he wants them to thrive. And Dazai is a walking corpse at best—body sewn together by lies and slim smiles.

Fukuzawa puts a hand on Dazai's head to ruffle his hair. Below him, the man tenses and seems to stop breathing. Closing his eyes and squeezing them tight, the president imagines what lies below this blanket of soft, chocolate hair is a child that can still be saved. But for all his trying, Fukuzawa can't make himself believe that. Dazai is the better liar amongst them, after all.

"We care about you." Is what he says instead of dwelling on the pitiful feeling of having failed before you've started.

"Okay." Dazai's voice is as empty as a porcelain doll's.

Kunikida watches the exchange with parted lips while Yosano stares on with something like fear.

"Even if you'll never believe it."

(Dazai thinks about Odasaku instead. About getting drinks and laughing and holding the warm corpse of someone he loved. He closes his eyes and imagines the hand in his hair is Oda's.)

"So we don't want to see you hurt. Okay?" Fukuzawa finishes. His voice is as steady as ever, even if that thick feeling of defeat has filled him up.

(And Dazai thinks: Is that an order, Boss?)

"I understand," Dazai says, beaming. If the smile reaches both of his eyes, there's really no way of knowing.

* * *

i dont think im physically capable of writing a happy ending


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